The horror genre has, of course, evolved since the days of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (friendly reminder that the genre itself was, indeed, established by a woman–consider, though, that she wrote from a man’s perspective which surely contributed to the novel’s success). But I would argue there’s still progress to be made. Even some of the timeless classic films hinge on the idea that the “token blonde” dies first, or is the only one to die at all, or has to be saved by a man, or serves no purpose other than to be viewed as a sexual object (see Creature of the Black Lagoon or My Bloody Valentine for reference). Supernatural, which has aired on the CW for over a decade, doesn’t usually feature female characters for more than one or two seasons, and it’s almost always the three principal men who save the world from destruction.
But I digress. Instead of listening who’s done it wrong, I’m going to take some time to tell you what to watch and listen to for good, scary fun that does women right. Don’t cover your eyes for these–you won’t want to miss them.
Today, June 1 — the first day of Pride Month — Netflix announced its decision to cancel its original series, Sense8, after two seasons. The announcement has been met with outrage, multiple petitions (including one that has reached over 100,000 signatures), and open opposition over social media.
I thought it was a joke at first. The show, which received critical acclaim for its unadulterated display of diversity in race, culture, gender, and sexual orientation, had its ratings increase significantly between the first and second season (79% in Season 1 to 86% in Season 2 on RottenTomatoes, for example — both seasons considered a significant “fresh” tomato). The choice to end it abruptly leaves me reeling and begging the question: When will television outlets — primetime, digital, or otherwise — recognize the importance of diversity in the 21st century?
You’ve likely heard the hype surrounding 13 Reasons Why, the new Netflix teen drama based on the novel of the same name that’s trending for its “gritty” and “real” depictions of assault, bullying, and suicide. Set at the fictional Liberty High School, we follow student Clay Jensen as he listens through thirteen cassette tapes that his dead friend Hannah Baker left behind. Thirteen reasons why she chose to end her own life. Thirteen people’s contributions to her death––including Clay’s own hand in the matter from Hannah’s perspective. There are graphic depictions of sexual assault and, in the final episode, of the suicide itself.
The show has been met with equal praise and disgust, and I can honestly say that overall, I’m in the middle. The acting was decent for a bunch of newcomer kids. The writing was solid (for a teen drama). The cinematography was surprisingly good, too. The biggest standout of the show to me, actually, was Kate Walsh as Hannah’s mother. Her subtle performance was the most “real” thing about the show to me––I loved every minute she was onscreen. I also related to Hannah. I related to a lot of the main characters for various reasons, and I felt for them. A good show does that effectively and effortlessly, and it uses those characters and their stories to effectively showcase the show’s main message.
13 Reasons Why almost achieved that. Until the very last episode. For me, everything the show attempted to stand for fell apart after that.
It’s not really a secret at this point that I need some daily help to get by in the form of medicine. Most people do. In fact as of last year, 1 in 6 Americans take antidepressants and other medicines for psychological disorders to get by. Life is stressful and wonderful and sad and fantastic, and if you need help being okay through all of it, that is not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s a literal chemical imbalance in the brain. No strict talking-to or desire to “get over it” will change the science.
Clinical depression is not something to be ashamed of. It is something to try and work through as best you can, and it’s all you can do.
I had not read the book version of 13 Reasons Why before diving into this show, so I had no previous investment in the story. I was simply drawn in by the hype. But while I started the show relatively complacent, I finished it angry.
I’m not writing this to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m not even writing this as an overall review of 13 Reasons Why, which is much more on-brand for this blog.
I’m writing it because it is, as the show calls it, “my truth.”
And I refuse to let it align with the message 13 Reasons Why sends about suicide and its aftermath.
*There are major spoilers and disturbing/triggering topics discussed ahead. You’ve been warned.
A lot of people look fondly on their early years by reminiscing about their first memory of riding a bike or making a friend in kindergarten.
I often look back on my first memories of television. (Shocker!)
There are loads of late ’90s – early 2000s TV shows that blared in the background of my youth––Braceface, The Winx Club, Inspector Gadget, Boy Meets World…but there were very few that held my attention for 30 to 60 minutes once a week. I was busy in my own world of Barbie dolls and Sailor Moon fanfiction written in 2nd-grade English.
But occasionally, I hear a song on the radio that takes me back to sitting on reddish carpeted ground in the basement and enjoying an evening with my family after school and homework and dinner. Some on this list are more well-known than others, but some of my earliest memories in my family’s first house involve watching these with my sister or with the whole family.
From playing Prince of Camelot to starring as Prince of Hell, Bradley James has certainly built up quite the resume. I tuned into the Damien premiere this week for two reasons: (1) I was (and still am) a total BBC Merlin geek, and (2) I love a good scare. The Omen is a great film and I was very excited to see the new, present-day twist on the story. Overall, I was impressed–the show is well-shot and has great potential, even if it’s a little slow getting started.
Episode 1, “The Beast Rises,” isset 25-ish years after The Omen and follows Damien Thorn, quite literally just-turned-30 and pursuing a very promising career in war photography. It appears he’s kept his job so long–despite getting in trouble on location in Syria in the first five minutes of the episode–because he’s “the only one” who can get so “close” to the action. Why is it, the viewer is led to wonder, that Damien can get so “close”–physically and otherwise–to the ruin and chaos of war? Why does it follow him?
Well, because he’s the Antichrist. He doesn’t really know that yet, though. So the audience is meant to follow grown-up Damien over the course of ten episodes in his discovery of himself.
Remember the creepy kid with the tricycle? He got hot.
What’s particularly gripping about Episode 1 is that, on the outset, Damien appears to lead a very normal life. We learn he’s had love interests, he has friends, he regrets the loss of his parents (even though he can’t remember what really happened to them, or much of his childhood with them, for that matter). But he’s experienced some pretty weird things over the course of his life, too. In this episode, the writers lay the groundwork for his making sense of those pieces that don’t seem to fit–and because of these realizations, Damien’s world begins to crumble. The writers have done a great job in just one episode of creating sympathy for a character about whom we previously knew very little besides the aforementioned creepiness. The show humanizes a classic figure of paranormal horror, which is a hard thing to do, especially with a film that’s been around for so long.
But Damien also pays tribute to its inspiration with a plethora of references (the three hounds lurking in the dark, flashbacks to the iconic hanging scene in The Omen), as well as significantly spooky religious imagery. One of the final scenes in which Damien confronts the crucifix statue in the Church is particularly disturbing and definitely sets the tone for the series. Damien also thrives in cinematography and coloring as a whole. Visually, it’s quite captivating and overall shot very well. Add a creepy old lady speaking Latin and you’ve got the recipe for the significant spooks. Those looking for spidery, subtle scares over hide-under-the-covers tropes will be impressed.
What Damien lacks so far seems to be acting strength and effective pacing. I’m extremely pleasantly surprised with Bradley James as an actor (he’s grown so much since his early days in Merlin–holy American accent, Batman!), but the other actors and characters fell flat to me. I hope these ten episodes allow for recurring characters to grow by the efforts of actors and writers alike. Furthermore, overall Episode 1 is, like most pilot episodes, quite exposition-heavy. Damien faces the challenge of both captivating its audience and providing the Cliffsnotes version of the Omen trilogy’s lore in 43 minutes. So far it seems to focus on the latter, choosing to tell rather than show what Damien’s been up to since we last saw him and winding on about Biblical explanations that just happen to fit what he’s going through. I’m looking forward to what will hopefully be some more creative storytelling, because the premise has such promise. There are many opportunities to expand on Damien’s character and on the lore without getting too dense, and I hope the writers take them up.
Overall, I give the Damien premiere a solid 3 stars out of 5. I look forward to tuning in again next week. Despite my nitpicking, the episode left me with a shudder running down my spine–so I can’t deny it achieved its goal!
